


The Lion's Dwelling

by aurea_sidera



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Civil War Fix-It, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurea_sidera/pseuds/aurea_sidera
Summary: The Accords have been renegotiated. The Avengers are home, but it's far from the same as it used to be. There's a threat rising, and they'll have to navigate their own tensions, the Sokovia Accords... and manage to work together.Starring Natasha, Tony, Steve, Clint, with occasional POVs by the rest of the team.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, here we go!   
> Am I four years too late to be writing a Civil War fix-it? Yes, absolutely. Am I doing it anyway? Yes.  
> For the most part, this stuck close to canon. There are a couple of changes: some liberties must be taken. In this, Tony never sold the Tower, mostly because I like the Tower. Natasha was on the run for a while, but she ended up back in the States instead of with Steve & Co. The Barton children have never confirmed their ages, but in this, Cooper is 15--like Peter, Lila is 13, and Nate is like two. That's all you have to know, I think.  
> This is also my first time using AO3, so...wish me luck?  
> All right! Let's do it!

_ Begirt with many a blazing star, _

_ stood the great giant Algebar,  _

_ Orion, the Hunter of the Beast! _

_ His sword hung gleaming from his side, _

_ And, on his arm, the lion’s hide, _

_ Scattered across the midnight air, _

_ The golden radiance of its hair. _

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Arriving - 3164**

_ Monday, June 15th, 2017 _

Steve Rogers lifted his chin as he stared out of the helicopter window. 

It was a helicopter, of course, because the UN jets couldn’t land on the Tower and it didn’t look good for appearances to have a Stark or Wakandan jet bring them. So they had taken a UN private jet from Wakanda to New York, and then a helicopter to get to Avengers Tower. All for appearances. All dramatic. 

In front of him, Clint was silent, his eyes alight as he gazed at the approaching building, as tall and imposing as Steve had ever seen it. He was quiet, for once. Excited. 

There wasn’t much talking in the helicopter, and it wasn’t just because the rotors were so loud. The UN Avengers envoy was sitting between Clint and Wanda, a no-nonsense man with grey hair. He didn’t seem to be very talkative, despite being a lawyer. More importantly, however, he was a stranger, someone whose very goal was to report on the Avengers. 

The pilot tapped the seats. “We’re here,” he said over the headphones. 

_ And so we are,  _ thought Steve. 

When they landed on the helipad, there were two people waiting for them. When the rotors became slow enough, Steve was the first to leap out and meet them. 

Briefly, he reflected on the last time that he had been in a helicopter, months ago. Well, he hadn’t been  _ in  _ the helicopter, but Bucky had, and Steve made a mess of the whole thing. 

That was a long time ago, though. 

Sam was the first to follow Steve out onto the helipad, then the others. 

Maria Hill barely blinked at them before she moved towards the pilots and the lawyer with practiced grace. She started talking business and politics and bureaucracy and as much time that Steve had invested in that, he didn’t understand any of it. 

The other person waiting for them, however, ran towards them, her heels clicking on the floor. 

“Nat,” breathed Clint, beside Steve. His face broke into a wide smile as he embraced her. The hug looked like it hurt, but they both smiled. It had always been Clint and Natasha, two separate parts of a whole.

“Took you all long enough,” she said. “We’ve been waiting.”

She hugged Wanda next, saying something quietly to her. Wanda replied, but the wind was too loud for Steve to make out her words. To Sam, she offered a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

Then she turned to Steve and hugged him, too. “I missed you,” she murmured. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. It’s good to be back,” Steve answered, and she held onto him for a second longer, as if she wanted to say something else. But she withdrew, instead, and offered a hand to Scott. 

“It’s nice to formally meet you,” she said. 

“I wouldn’t stress about it,” he replied dryly and she laughed. Steve didn’t catch the reference, but it meant something to them. 

Natasha stood back and surveyed the group. “Well, for being on the run for a year, you all look pretty good.”

Wanda laughed, at least. It was a poor attempt at a joke. All of them had been staying at one of T’Challa’s lesser palaces in Wakanda, with the greatest technology and comforts in the world. 

“Let’s go inside,” Natasha offered. 

When the doors slid closed behind them, she turned to Clint. 

He knew that she knew what he was about to ask. “Where are they?”

“Downstairs. They got here fine. Lila was very excited.”

“When can I see them?” T’Challa had allowed the Barton family into Wakanda, but after negotiating the plea deal, he had sent them home to Iowa, where Natasha had picked them up. Meanwhile, Clint and the rest of the Rogue Avengers had been bounced around the globe for the past few weeks, so he hadn’t had much contact with them.

She shrugged. “Soon.” She turned to Scott. “Your Cassie, she’s there, too, with her mother. And Hope, too.” She pushed the button for the elevator. “I’ll leave you to settle in your rooms after we see everyone down. Well, almost everyone. Oh! Vision’s there. And the kid, the kid, too. He’ll be very excited to meet you all.”

“The kid?” Steve asked. 

“The, uh, Spider-Man, I think he calls himself. You met him at the airport. He’s Tony’s intern.”

He nodded. “And where’s Tony?”

The air grew colder at the mention of his name. Scott became interested in his shoes. The elevator dinged and slid open. 

Natasha didn’t skip a beat, holding his gaze. “He’s in his lab. You probably won’t see him today.”

“Natasha…” Steve whispered, hoping to convey a thousand things in the one word, including—and perhaps most importantly—regret. 

She tilted her head. “You won’t see him today, I think.” There was all sorts of meaning behind his words, but nothing Steve could decipher. “Rhodey’s with him.”

Steve nodded. 

Natasha led them into the elevator. “FRIDAY, is everyone still on floor forty-three?”

“Yes, everyone I believe you’re referring to,” hummed the AI. “Would you like to go down there?”

“Yeah.” Natasha turned back to the group. “Your floor numbers… I don’t remember. FRIDAY will take you there after we say hi to everyone. Clint, Steve, yours are the same as before. The rest of you never actually  _ lived  _ here, so you get new ones. They’re pretty cool. I helped design them, but it was mostly Tony.”

“Is he okay?” Steve didn’t let her change the subject. He wanted to  _ see  _ Tony, to apologize. The last he had seen of Tony was in Siberia, surrounded by a thousand mistakes. 

Natasha sighed. “He wasn’t. He’s better now. Please  _ don’t  _ antagonize him.” She looked at Scott and Sam in particular, the latter of which made a  _ Who, me?  _ gesture. “I don’t know if you heard, but he and Pepper are engaged. She’s on the west coast right now, but I think she’s coming back in the next couple of days.”

“Really?” Wanda confirmed.

Steve had heard a rumour, but American news was hard to get in Wakanda, so he questioned the validity of it. 

Natasha smiled. “Yes. Very sweet. Wedding’s a couple months from now, I think.”

Steve wondered if he was invited. 

* * *

Tony Stark was in his lab. 

He wasn’t exactly working on anything in particular. He had projects open, sure, numbers of them, and he needed to finish the arrows he was redesigning for Clint as a sort of welcome home gift. He didn’t have anything for anyone else, but Tony always had a lot of fun with Clint’s arrows. There was no complicated engineering, no cutting edge science. Just pointy sharp things. Besides, Clint had been his  _ friend,  _ once upon a time. He was the only one to catch all of Tony’s jokes and sarcasm, and he was always up for a prank. Tony still couldn’t imagine that guy as a father, even if he had met all of Clint’s children.

His virtual nanotechnology file sat open at one table. Other than the use in his suits, Stark Industries had begun to roll out nanotech in various fields, especially medical technology, but it remained very rudimentary. It took a very long time, especially in medicine, to get products approved, but Tony was still fixated on that industry. It would benefit the most from his inventions.  _ From weapons to this.  _ Not that he was working on that, either. 

Normally, if he found himself at a loss for ideas, which was rare, he would take a break. Head downstairs. Hang out with Pepper or make an AI for the toaster (the normal kind of AI, not the homicidal kind. Her name was Barbara, she was nice). Take Natasha’s weapons, rant about everything that was wrong with them, have her refuse to let him fix them (or ruin them, if you asked her). Watch a movie with the kid, or make a new type of webbing or give Karen a better targeting system. 

But nope! Not today. Today, he would spend every hour in one of the few rooms that Steve Rogers was not allowed in. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him, exactly. Tony had certainly done the lion’s share in the work that had allowed the Rogue Avengers to come home. No one could deny that. He had started the process and fought with the UN every step of the way to make it happen. Not without support, of course. The Avengers had pulled off a strong united front, which left little room for argument. Of course Tony wanted to see them. 

But now they were  _ here.  _ Rogers was  _ here.  _ In his Tower. Only a few floors away. 

At least Barnes wasn’t here. Off the record, Tony had sent T’Challa’s people whatever information he and Natasha could compile on brainwashing, but he was still in cryo.  _ Good.  _ Tony wanted to see him even less. 

He’d had a nightmare last night. Siberia. Back there, freezing, alone. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. 

“Rhodey!” he called, glancing behind him. “How are your legs?”

Rhodey looked up from the sofa on the other side of the room, reading something on his phone. Tony saw him tapping at the braces that covered his legs, a casualty of the media-dubbed Civil War. “They’re all right,” he said blandly. “Same as the last eight times you’ve asked.”

“All right is far from perfect, my friend. Anything you want with them? AC offer is still in the air, by the way. Built-in phone stand? Oh, I could give you an AI?”

“ _ Absolutely not. _ ”

“You’re no fun.” Tony swung around in his swivel chair. “I’m  _ bored. _ ”

“Those are words I never thought you’d say.” Rhodey stood up and crossed over to him. Tony catalogued each step, checking for imperfections. A model of Rhodey’s braces was on the market for SI, to help paraplegics, and the Stark Foundation was helping some afford it. Rhodey had the more experimental model, for now, but Tony had already received many thank you letters from people who were learning how to walk again. Pepper kept them in an album. Tony wasn’t sentimental, no, but she certainly was. 

“Yeah, well, first time for everything.”

Rhodey crossed his arms, looking at Tony. “You don’t have to be bored, you know. There are lots of people who’d love to talk to you downstairs.”

“Love to talk to me, oh my.” Tony stood up and began to tidy one side of the lab.

“ _ Tony. _ ”

“What, honey bear?”

“You can’t avoid them forever.”

“I know. I’m not. I’m avoiding them  _ today. _ ”

Rhodey sighed. “And am I supposed to believe that tomorrow you’ll, what, show up for breakfast with a smile?”

Tony glowered. “Yes.” 

“Tony.” 

“Rhodey.”

“When’s Pepper getting here?”

Not what he had been expecting. Tony lit up at the mention of his fiancee. “She’s flying in tonight, and she’ll be here for a couple of weeks, she says. There’s wedding planning in my future.”

“Not the worst thing in the world.”

He couldn’t hide his smile. “We’ve done most of it. You still need to be fitted for a best man’s suit.”

Rhodey made a face. 

There was tapping at the keypad, and the glass door swung open to let Natasha in. “Hey, boys. How are we?”

“Where are they?” Tony asked. “What are they doing?”

She gave him a sideways glance, claiming his swivel chair and spinning around. “Wondering the same thing about you.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Common floor,” she answered. “With everyone else. Including Peter. Pretty much everyone except you two.”

“He won’t even consider going down there,” Rhodey complained. 

Tony stuck a finger in the air. “I resent that. It has been considered. Considered, and decided to be a horrible idea that we are definitely not going to do.”

“We?”

“Me.”

“You,” Natasha agreed somberly. “So if you’re not going to go up there, what are you going to do?”

“Wallow, most likely,” Tony answered, flicking open the nanotech file with his wrist. The projected blueprints filled the space, making it look complicated and fantastic. Which, of course, it  _ was.  _ “Maybe save the world. Cure some disease. Hey, what disease should I cure today?”

“Cancer,” Rhodey deadpanned. 

“Extreme Avoidance Syndrome,” Natasha said. “It’s considered a side effect of being a rich superhero with the maturity of a teenager and it manifests in  _ one’s inability to face their problems _ .”

“That sounds very familiar,” Rhodey said. “Seems… seems serious, yeah, definitely. Someone in this room should really, really, get on that.”

“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm,” she said, overlapping with him. “Hmm, yeah, for sure.”

Tony pointed a gauntleted hand at them. “You guys are horrible. Both of you.”

“Oh, we’re horrible?” Rhodey said. “I’ve dealt with you for almost thirty years, I don’t think you can call anyone horrible.”

“You love me.”

“Somehow.”

Natasha glanced at the time. “I’ve been gone a while, I should get back.”

“No, stay,” Rhodey said, standing up. “I need to go see everyone eventually, and—“ he shot a pointed look at Tony, who pretended not to see, “—it’s sooner or later.”

When he left, Tony took his spot on the table, just across from Natasha. “You’re mad.”

“I’m not. I can’t blame you for avoiding—“

“Really? Because it sounds like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Let me finish,” she said patiently. Natasha was always patient. Not like him. Tony wanted things to be finished as quickly as possible. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to hang out with Steve, but I will say this. He’s the same person he’s always been. So is the rest of the team. We used to…” She trailed off. 

“You’re right,” said Tony. “He is the same person that he’s always been. I’ve just never known who that was before. I do now.”

“Look, I know you’re mad at him—“

“I’m not mad at him!”

“Then go downstairs and talk to them!”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know what to say. Look, I…” Tony licked his lips. “I've read way too much on Hydra’s brainwashing to be mad at Barnes. I’m sorry to  _ him,  _ because I attacked him, but—“

Natasha defended him even before the sentence was out. “It wasn’t a big deal, Tony. You were angry, you had reason to be, and you lashed out.”

“Right, but still. Steve didn’t tell me that… what happened… happened because he was afraid I’d react exactly as I did. So he was right. So I can’t be mad at him, either.”

“Would you have reacted like that?” Natasha wondered. “Had you learned from someone other than Zemo, in an abandoned base in Siberia. If he had told you, a long time ago, would you have reacted like that?”

_ No.  _ “Nobody wins the speculation game, Natasha, you know as well as I do.”

She conceded that with a nod. “We used to be really close, once upon a time. You, me, Steve, Clint. Thor, when he was here.”

“And Bruce.”

Natasha sighed. “Yes. And Bruce.”

Tony had almost forgotten about that particular… event. He glanced at the corner, where FRIDAY was constantly running facial recognition for both of the missing Avengers. He’d had to increase her capacities to do that. Tony watched Natasha carefully, but she seemed largely unaffected by the mention of her old friend. He supposed that she had enough going on that day. Or maybe, you know, she was a spy. Whatever she was feeling, she didn’t need to share.

“We used to be pretty close,” Natasha continued. “What happened?”

Tony didn’t answer. 

A few months ago, after a bad mission, Natasha had asked him a question. “What was it like?” she had asked. “To fight Steve? To fight him.”

Tony had scoffed. “You were there, at the airport. You were fighting with the rest of us. Most of the time, at least.”

She had ignored the low blow. “Well, yeah, but there’s a difference with non-lethal, almost fun. It felt like we were sparring, practicing. It didn’t feel real.”

“And you think I was trying to kill Rogers back there?”

“No,” she answered instantly. “Have you seen that suit of yours? If you wanted him dead, he’d be dead.”

“I don’t think I wanted to kill him,” Tony confessed. “I think I just wanted to  _ hurt _ him.”

Natasha had looked up at him, eyes piercing. “Did you?”

Tony didn’t reply to that either.

Now, Natasha shifted. “Wanna do something? I’m not quite ready to leave you here alone, and you’re not coming with me.”

“Chess?” Tony suggested.

She made a face, but agreed. “You’ll win.”

He did win, eventually, but she put up a good fight. Natasha was good at chess, always. 

“You know,” she started, making the same argument that she always did. “Chess is great, but as far as metaphors for real life go, it’s not my favourite.”

“What do you mean?” Tony had heard this enough to know exactly what she meant.

She shrugged. “Everything is exactly as it appears. There’s nothing left to chance, and you start the game knowing exactly what you do by the end. There’s nothing to be learned in each game. The idea that each piece has a designated purpose that can’t be changed is so unlike real life.”

Tony squinted. “You learn about your opponent.”

She laughed. “In movies, a game of chess is always so dramatic.  _ You took out my pawns first, that means that you fear the less powerful pieces on the board for what they might become.  _ It’s ridiculous!” She put on a funny voice as she imitated a movie character. “I can learn more about someone from their drink order.”

Tony smiled. He didn’t get to see her like that very much, so off-guard and carefree. “Their drink order?”

She nodded emphatically. 

“Scary. But, you know, don’t knock chess. You kill the pawns to make sure that they don’t become queens.”

“Why doesn’t it just start that way?” Natasha asked. “Why does this game start with all our cards on the table?”

Tony hesitated, grinned. “This is why you’re good at poker.”

Natasha shrugged, not disagreeing. “I am, yes. So are you.”

“Poker’s half psychology and half math. Between the two of us, we got it set.”

She sighed. Before she could say anything, however, FRIDAY’s voice hummed from the speakers. “Miss Romanoff, Captain Rogers has requested to know where you are.”

“Nosy, aren’t we?” Tony said, glancing up. 

Natasha stood. “I guess that’s my cue. You coming with?”

He wanted to, he did, but at the same time, there was nothing he wanted less. “Not yet.”

She nodded, pecked him on the cheek. “I will say this. If you’re not mad at Rogers, and you’re not mad at Barnes—who isn’t even  _ here _ …”

It was true. Barnes was still frozen in Wakanda, far, far away. 

“... then the only person who you might be mad at is yourself. And that isn’t right.”

She left, and Tony realized just how large and empty his workshop really was. 


	2. Chapter Two - Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not reconciling, but it's... something. Steve and Tony talk.

Natasha rolled her shoulders, then smiled as the elevator doors opened. 

The common floor had always been one of Natasha’s favourites. It had the largest kitchen and dining room, and its open floor concept gave it windows pretty much the whole way around. The ceilings were tall, which made it a little bit imposing, but the colours were warm, soft. 

The people were some of Natasha’s favourites as well.

Although she had told the Rogues to settle into their quarters, they were all still there. She supposed that they didn’t have much to settle in. All of their stuff was either at the compound, or T’Challa was sending it over. She checked her phone to see where the cargo plane was, and found that it wouldn’t land for another couple of hours, during dinner. 

That was all right, then. 

All of the Avengers were clustered in the living room. The large television was on, playing the news at a low volume. Natasha glanced at it to see a video of the UN helicopter landing on the Tower. A news anchor speculated on why they hadn’t seen any photos of the reunification yet, especially after the PR people had put out a press release about how excited they were to have the Avengers back together. 

Natasha hadn’t even seen that press release before now. The Avengers had a team of people for every necessity, especially after the Accords, who all answered to someone who answered to someone else who answered to Maria Hill. Most of the people working for them had barely spent any time with the actual Avengers, but she supposed that they didn’t need to. 

Speaking of, Maria was the only one watching the screen. 

Natasha crossed over to her. “What’s it saying?”

“Nothing much. We should probably stage some pictures at some point, the team back together. Handshakes, whatever. Throw them a bone. Those lawyer pricks wanted Tony Stark up there for a photo op. I said good luck with that.”

Natasha snorted. 

“What’s he up to?”

“Absolutely nothing. What’s everyone doing up here?” Natasha cast her gaze around the room. Sam and Rhodey were engaged in conversation, and they both seemed pretty happy. The kids—Cooper, Lila, Peter, Cassie—were deeply involved in a game of RISK, while Wanda and Vision played backgammon. Natasha shivered. Vision was impossible to play backgammon with, because he knew all the probabilities and what his next move should be, but Wanda had an uncanny ability to predict the dice. The rest of the adults were sitting on the sofas, sharing stories. 

The only exception was Steve. He sat at the back, watching, observing the group.

“Go,” said Maria, following her gaze. “Tell him to relax.”

She scoffed. “Have you met him?”

Still, Natasha walked over to him, making a calm, leisurely pace. 

“Hey,” he said.

“It’s good to see them like this.”

Steve nodded. “How’s Tony?”

“Did you talk to Sharon?”

“Sharon—? What?” The mention of the CIA agent was enough to make him forget about Tony, at least momentarily. Natasha smothered a smile. “Who told you?”

“Who told me what? That you kissed her?” Natasha tilted her head. “She did. She seemed quite flustered, if you ask me. You should really reach out to her.” 

“Natasha, that wasn’t…”

“Wasn’t what? Come on. She’s pretty. She’s smart. You should go after that.”

Steve shook his head dismissively. “Not the time. But you didn’t answer my question. How’s Tony?”

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

“If I did, then I wouldn’t be me. How’s Tony?”

“He’s fine,” she answered, then lifted an eyebrow. “And you?”

Steve didn’t meet her eyes, knowing that she hadn’t given him an answer, but also that it was the best answer he was going to get. “We’re doing great. We’re all doing great.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. 

Natasha pressed her back against the wall beside him, pulling at her fingers. Clint caught her eye and looked at her questioningly. She forced a smile. Although he glanced at Steve concernedly, he returned to his conversation. 

Only someone who had known Clint Barton as long as and as well as she had could have caught the tension in his brow, his furtive looks towards the kids, the way that he held onto Laura’s hand like she might disappear. 

Or the way Sam stubbornly refused to look at Rhodey’s legs.

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed. “So are we. We’re doing great.”

And they were, right? Tony was being stubborn, and Steve was being tense, but other than that, they were fine. Public approval was the highest it was since before Lagos, and the New Accords weren’t a bad compromise. They were taking it one day at a time, and it was going well. It was going well.

Maybe if she said it enough times, it would feel like the truth.

* * *

Dinner was quiet. Everyone was aware of Tony’s conspicuous absence, even though the rest of them were there, except Peter, who had gone home. Natasha sat beside Sam, who regaled her with stories of Scott trying Wakandan food with… varying results. 

“Wow,” she remarked with a smile, “seems like being a fugitive was pretty rough.”

“Oh, it was,” he assured her. “Wakandan Netflix sucks.”

She laughed, genuinely. 

“What have you been up to?” Sam prodded, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“We took down a few Hydra bases, a couple of arms smuggling rings, you know, the usual.” Natasha winked at Hope, sitting across the table from her. “Brought in a new member or two, you know the deal.”

“Oh,  _ initiation _ ,” Sam said, stretching out each syllable. “Hope it was a good one.”

“Better than yours,” Hope fired back jokingly. “I was on comms for that, you know.”

A look of confusion crossed his face for a split second, then he turned to Scott. “ _ You were on comms?”  _

He smiled. 

“Oh, I remember this,” Natasha said. “I was on his side of the comms.”

Sam made a show of looking over to ensure that Cap wasn’t listening. “That wasn’t an initiation. I was a full-blown Avenger back then.”

“Didn’t act like one,” Scott said cheekily.

“Have  _ you  _ fought Hydra?”

Natasha sat back, letting them banter. She had missed this. It wasn’t the same with just Tony, Rhodey, and Vision. Vision wasn’t really… human, and Tony and Rhodey had known each other for so long that Natasha just felt like she was intruding. Even when Hope had joined, she and Tony were constantly provoking the other—something about a decades-long feud? The two had grown up together—although she and Natasha had become close But, all in all, she had missed her team. 

“Look, Avenger or not, someone needs to teach you not to underestimate your opponents,” Natasha told Scott dryly. 

He lifted his hands in the air. “I knew that you were the Black Widow, okay? I was just being nice! You didn’t have to electrocute me.”

“I didn’t. I shocked you. There’s a difference,” Natasha corrected.

Hope laid a hand on Scott’s arm. “Believe me, you don’t want to get into an argument with Natasha. You’ll lose.”

“I believe that,” Scott said.

When the plates were being cleared, Hope volunteered to check on Tony. She returned with a smile.

“He got some idea for a satellite thing? I don’t know, but he seemed into it. Pepper will be here in a couple hours, so he’s good until then.”

That seemed to be enough, but someone needed to teach Steve how to listen a little bit more subtly.

* * *

_ Tuesday, June 16th. _

The next morning, Steve was the first on the common floor. It was barely six in the morning. A combination of jet lag, stress, and his general routine ensured that he had been up for a while.

He sat by the window with a mug of coffee beside him, mostly untouched, sketching out lines and shapes in his sketchbook. A long time ago, he used to love sitting by the Tower windows, drawing the city. 

After almost six years in the twenty-first century, New York still amazed him. It wasn’t like  _ his _ New York. For all Sam bugged him about getting a place in Brooklyn, he hesitated. It wasn’t home anymore. Home was the compound, far from the city, a military base in all but title. 

He wasn’t in the mood to finish anything, so he was just making little thumbnails, collections of lines that became Sam’s wings, or Wanda’s hair, or Tony’s Arc Reactor.

Natasha’s ballet shoes were barely taking form when he heard a clatter in the kitchen. He shot to his feet instantly, glancing around. 

_ Old habits die hard.  _ At least he wasn’t like Bucky, Natasha, or Clint, walking around armed to the teeth, even in the relative safety of the Tower.

It was just Tony, pouring the remainder of the coffeepot back into his cup. Steve had made the pot when he had come down. In Wakanda, Sam would always toss it out because it wasn’t hot enough by the time he woke up, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. 

“Hi,” Steve said. 

Tony straightened, surprised. Steve got the sense that he hadn’t even noticed he was here. “Oh. Hey.”

“Is… Did Pepper get in? Natasha mentioned… ”

“Yeah. Yes, last night. Late. She’s sleeping.”

Steve nodded, but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think Tony knew why he was saying that, either. 

It occurred to him that this was their first conversation since he had left him in Siberia. Left him, alone, freezing, injured. Pulling along a half-dead Bucky.

“I’m sorry, I’m just… what do you call it. Weighing my responses. Wanna make sure I say the right thing.”

Steve placed the pencil back onto the table and released a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. It was easy to see what Tony meant by that. He was weighing his responses, like he should have done in Siberia. And he wanted to ensure that he told him the right thing, like Steve should have told him about his parents. 

It was both an accusation and an apology, in words that were neither. 

“Tony, I…”

“I know,” he replied shortly. “We don’t have to do this.”

“We should.”

“We should,” Tony allowed, “but we don’t want to, so we won’t.”

Steve had nothing to say to that, either.

Tony snorted out a laugh. “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Really.”

“Me, too,” Steve agreed. It was genuine. It was good to be home, with his people. Even Tony was part of his people. Talking to him was tense, a contest, but it was better than before. 

Tony nodded, awkwardly. His phone beeped loudly, and Steve was grateful for that momentary break. Tony checked it, then grabbed a cookie from the jar. “See you around, Rogers.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” he suggested. 

If Tony heard that, he gave no sign. 

* * *

Wanda was reorganizing her room when Natasha found her that morning. 

Even through everything, even though she had fought aliens and monsters and robots, even though the world now knew her name and face, Natasha Romanoff was a spy. She had her training, and she didn’t forget. She knew how to stand there, silent, unmoving, so that Wanda wouldn’t notice. She leaned against the doorway, watching, observing. Wanda kept working, completely unaware. 

It occurred to Natasha that she was being a little bit creepy. She brushed off the thought. The Black Widow had been called worse things. 

The last year had not been kind to Wanda Maximoff. Natasha saw it in every move she made. Her necklace, the one Natasha had never seen her take off, was gone, leaving her throat bare. She had dyed her hair at some point, Natasha realized, it was a few shades lighter than the last time she had seen her. 

It was a textbook Natasha move. Whenever something traumatic happened, she dyed her hair and learned another language. 

_ Never stay put. Never let your guard down.  _

_ You’ll never expect it when you have to run. _

No. Those were Natasha’s lessons, drilled into her. Wanda was different. Wanda needed to be different. 

As if on cue, she turned around.

“Hi,” Wanda said, startled. Natasha noticed her hand rise, as if to defend herself, then fall. “How long have you—”

“Not long,” she answered. “It’s breakfast. If you want.” Back at the compound, Wanda had always slept in the latest if there wasn’t training, throwing pillows at people if they tried to wake her up. The only thing that could rouse her was breakfast, especially if she smelled blueberry pancakes. 

Wanda glanced at her watch. “Oh, it’s nine already?”

_ How long have you been up?  _ Natasha wondered. It didn’t matter. Jet lag. Right?

Right?

* * *

When they finally showed up, the common kitchen was chaotic. The entire team was squished into the space. Clint stood at the stove with the largest mixing bowl Wanda had ever seen, filled to the brim with pancake batter while Sam scrambled eggs beside him and Hope reached over him to turn her bacon. Rhodey and Scott were chopping fruit, and Pepper showed Steve how to properly four trays of potatoes while Laura directed it all with a wooden spoon. The elder Barton kids and Cassie were still sleeping— _ teenagers— _ and Tony, Vision, and Maggie set the table with vigour. 

“Huh,” Wanda said. 

Natasha laughed. “Yeah.”


	3. Chapter Three - Settling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury arrives on scene, bearing bad news. The Avengers remind themselves that they're a team.

Twenty minutes later, they all sat down to eat. Natasha noted with pleasure that they were no longer sitting on their “sides”, and that nobody had gotten into a fight yet. 

That was one day down, and some large number to go. 

“So,” she asked Laura. “Are you guys still going to be in Iowa, or have you decided to move here, or what?”

“We are moving,” Laura said decisively. 

“That’s a big deal.”

“Feels like it. Cooper got into that science school, the one the Parker kid goes to, so he’s excited about that. And Lila’s found some rep soccer team that she’s trying out for, so…” Clint shrugged. “The government already knows they exist, so it’s better to keep everyone here, so the Avengers are looking out for them.”

“And for us,” Laura added, and Natasha saw her hand find Clint’s under the table. “When this Accords business cools down, I’ll apply at a couple hospitals in the area. I’m not qualified enough for Dr. Cho’s team, but I’d like to get back to work.” Laura was a trauma nurse. She had worked for SHIELD at one point in time, which was how she met Clint.

“You know, despite us living basically rent-free in a billionaire’s tower,” Clint finished, winking at his wife. 

Natasha smiled, watching them. The first time that she had seen Clint with Laura, when he had brought Natasha home, she had marvelled at the change in the man in front of her. The Clint that she knew was nothing like Laura’s Clint. It had taken her a while to realize that the Clint that played with his children was the same Clint that took out arms dealers—protective, determined, open. Everything he did out there in the field, he really believed in. 

At the time, it had been earth-shattering for Natasha, who knew very little other than fear. She had asked him once how he did that. How he could go out there every day and put his life on the line when he had people waiting for him at home. How he could play with his children, knowing that his job could put their lives at risk. 

He had shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “But everything I do, I do for them.”

Over the years, seeing the Avengers as well as the Barton family, Natasha had concluded that love didn’t make people weak. Well, sure, it did, of course, but it also strengthened them. It gave them something to fight for. It gave them something to live for. 

_ And it gave them a weakness to be exploited.  _ Natasha shook the thought away. Nobody was untouchable, but Clint was right. The Avengers were pretty damn close. 

She looked up, across the table, and saw Steve. He smiled at her. 

“I was going to hit the gym later,” she offered. “You want to come? I’ve missed our sparring sessions.”

He looked the most excited that she had seen him. Something had clearly happened, probably with Tony, that made him like this. She didn’t ask, letting him keep it to himself. “Of course.”

She grinned, muscles aching in anticipation. And then she got a text. 

Grandpa:  _ How’s the extended family settling in? Getting used to the new place?  _

Natasha ignored the unofficial no phones rule, tapping out a reply.  _ Better than I expected.  _

Grandpa:  _ Can you go on a shopping trip? _

She pressed her lips together.  _ What do we need? Tell me you don’t want any calamari.  _

Grandpa:  _ No, no calamari. Maybe other seafood.  _

_ Understood.  _

_ You’ll meet me today. Our usual spot? _

_ That urgent, huh? What is this? _

_ I’ll explain when I see you. _

_ Give me an hour.  _

_ Understood.  _

Natasha blinked, rereading the texts. A shopping trip—a mission. No calamari meant not Hydra, but related. She stood up, drawing the attention of the table. 

“I… um…” she began, then held up her phone as an explanation. “It’s Fury. I’m going to go meet him.”

Tony’s eyes sharpened. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” she said, instantly, the lie slipping between her teeth. Then she added, “Subject to change.”

“Do you want me to come?” Clint said. Natasha understood. On a team with super soldiers, gods, and Vision, the normal humans on the team kept their position only with their connections and experience. And here it was, their primary connection, and it was just Natasha that he had called. 

She didn’t get the chance to turn him down. Steve did, first. “No, stay here with your family. I’ll go.”

“No,” she said instantly. “Too conspicuous. Don’t want to freak him out.” Fury also trusted Natasha more. He might be more open with just her. 

Steve didn’t like that so much. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just a meeting. I’ll keep you updated.” That last part, she said to the whole group, not just Steve. 

Tony’s eyes flashed. Fury had only reached out to her a few times through the months since the Civil War, preferring to go instead through Maria Hill. This meant that something big was happening—or rather, something that he didn’t want the UN to know about.

_ Subject to change, indeed.  _

“What’s a Fury? Who's Fury?” Scott asked, raising a hand. 

She didn’t stay to answer.

* * *

Fury was waiting for her when she arrived at the park. It was a small park, but the June weather was nice, so there were a number of people there, sitting, walking. In jeans and a t-shirt, her red hair covered by a hat, Natasha didn’t stand out at all. 

When she had joined SHIELD, some rookie had asked her why she kept her hair red. It was unusual, and her particular shade even more so. Being noticeable was either a very deliberate choice or a complete mistake for a spy. However, she liked it. It was her. It made her something other than a spy.

Fury, on the other hand, was slightly less subtle. That black trench coat that apparently he couldn’t go without. At least he was wearing sunglasses instead of his eyepatch. That would have been hard to miss.

He was standing by a lamppost, his hands in his pockets. Without looking at him, Natasha found a bench nearby, beside a garbage can. She had stopped for coffee and she took a sip from the paper cup, the warmth making her sigh. 

He came and sat next to her. 

“Romanoff.”

“You’re quite cryptic today, Nick.”

“Only today? I must be losing my touch.”

She smiled politely. “What’s happening?”

He offered her a thick stack of paper.  _ Paper,  _ like they were still in the nineties. She shuddered to imagine what Tony would say. 

Natasha leafed through it. “Give me the main idea.”

“They want to destroy the Avengers.”

“What else is new?” Small organizations like this with big plans for chaos weren’t unusual. What was unusual was that Fury required all of this secrecy. 

“They’re going after Maximoff to do it.”

“Wanda? Why?” Her lips parted in surprise. 

“Arguably, she’s the most powerful.”

_ No argument about it.  _ Natasha had only really seen Wanda fight a couple times, but she’d let loose in training a couple times and it was awe-inspiring. She was incredible. 

“She’s also the least experienced—”

“The most easily influenced,” Natasha continued, nodding in understanding. Wanda was young, and she certainly wasn’t an idiot, but she lacked a certain maturity that even her years of trauma couldn’t give her. “She’s the most easily controlled and the most likely to trip up.”

“I don’t know the girl well,” prefaced Nick. “So I hesitate to make statements about her, but…”

_ Please.  _ Nick Fury’s never hesitated a day in his life. “But?” Natasha prompted. 

“She’s young. She’s powerful. Everyone tells her that she’s the greatest in the world.”

“Because she is.”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s overconfident now. Natasha, Stark tried to keep her in the compound, under the radar, safe, with the intention of protecting himself, protecting her, protecting the team. Instead, she busted out and put another of the world’s most powerful beings through twelve floors. And supposedly she had a thing for him. The Vision was trying to protect her. Stark was trying to protect her. She didn’t take kindly to that.”

“How big of a threat is this?”

“These people are only human, but you can’t underestimate them. You have to understand. If they get her, you’ll never get her back. You need to protect her, but you can’t tell her.”

“That’s insane. If I tell her everything, she’ll understand. She’ll be smart,” Natasha claimed, trying to believe it. 

“Will she, though? She believes that nothing can hurt her. Someday, she’ll be wrong. That might be today. Like I said, she’s young, she’s confident, but she isn’t invincible. She’ll fight you if you try to protect her. You tell her the situation—she’s a flight risk from the moment that happens, and we can’t afford her loose. Not in the hands of Essex, and not even by herself.”

“She’s a person,” Natasha said automatically.

Nick looked like he was about to say something controversial, but settled. “I know. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“You can’t say stuff like that, Nick,” Natasha chided. She hated that she agreed with him. The biggest problem with the Avengers was that they were, in fact, people. Not one cohesive group, but separate. When they worked together, they did amazing things, but they were equally liable to do something… less amazing. The Civil War had been the most recent and biggest example, but Natasha knew that there’d be more. More divisions, more fights. More possibilities to end the team.

Like the one staring back at her. She swallowed. “What do you suggest I do?”

He motioned at the file. “That’s some. It’s not enough. There’s not a location, or a plan. Most of it is guesswork. Make more. Don’t tell Maximoff, not until you’re ready to attack. Protect her. Stay close. Keep her in the Tower. Keep her in the dark.”

“That’s insane. You realize that’s insane, don’t you?”

“We’re beyond that.”

“I’m not  _ imprisoning her _ .” Natasha raised her voice on instinct. Nobody noticed, but Fury looked around suspiciously. 

“You don’t have to imprison her,” he said, after confirming nobody had heard. “She’s still on probation as a Rogue Avenger. Say that you think it would be better for optics if she stayed out of view.”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “We have PR people, you know.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve gained their trust. They’ll do what you tell them to.”

Natasha’s breath caught. Dangerously. “I didn’t gain anyone’s trust. I earned it. They trust me. This isn’t a mission, Nick. I’m not undercover, that I have to gain someone’s trust to exploit.”

“Aren’t you?” he said quietly. “Aren’t we all, at this point? Undercover? Always?” He held her gaze through his sunglasses for a long moment, staring at her silently. She fought the urge to shudder under his glare. 

“We don’t live in that kind of world, Nick,” she sighed. 

“Wrong. That’s exactly the kind of world we live in. You know it. You know that I’m right. Nat, you don’t work for me. I can’t make you do anything. This is your call, but be aware.” He stabbed a finger at the files. “This is the world of spies, not superheroes. Stark and Rogers and even Clint nowadays don’t get it.”

“But I do,” said Natasha, facing forward. Somewhere in the park, a little girl started crying. 

Satisfied, Nick rose, leaving the files there. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Of that, Natasha had no doubt.


	4. Chapter Four - Deciding

Natasha stayed at the park for half an hour, stopped for a coffee break, and picked up some pastries before she made her way back to the Tower.

She spent that time flipping through the files with the air of someone lazily reading the newspaper. Fury was right—these people had their fingers in everything. There were references to Hydra and its Department X, the KGB, Strucker's experiments, SHIELD, Stark Industries, the SSR, and, of course, the Red Room.

Of course.

_If Nick is right, if they're going after Wanda… this is a serious thing._

_If Nick is right, we need to protect her. And if Nick is right, she won't let us._

Exhausted, Natasha rubbed her eyes, cutting off the thought. Wanda… She would deal with Wanda later.

For now, she flipped to another page, a list of names. Natasha suspected that as many as two-thirds were fake, but one-third of a page was better than nothing. She was surprised to see that she recognized some of them.

The first was an informant, someone that had been a great help to Natasha throughout her years as a spy. She had enlisted his services as part of SHIELD and the KGB alike. Ginsburg had no loyalties, he had no alliances, but he had information. Always. Barton had nicknamed him _Nosy Nosy._

She'd give Max a call, see if he knew anything of importance. His prices were high, but she had the resources of the Avengers behind her now. That would help if he wanted money, but Max also dealt in drugs, secrets, and most importantly, favours.

What would she have to promise him this time?

Now that she was an Avenger, she expected that the value of a favour from the Black Widow went up.

She pushed the thought from her mind. When she had been with SHIELD, Max had known that her hands were tied in regard to favours and secrets. Hopefully, he would know that that was still the case. If not….

Natasha went back to scanning the list.

 _Arya Forrest._ Something about that name ticked at Natasha. It sounded like an alias, but one that she had heard before. Years ago, maybe. She made a mental note to check it out, see who it belonged to.

When her brain was bursting with information, she lazily stood, stretched, and headed to a nearby bakery. When she had worked at the New York Triskelion immediately after she defected, she had made it a point to go to Amélie's at least twice a week, so the owners had gotten to know her, somewhat, but only as Natalie Rushman. When she had been transferred to Washington, Amélie had almost cried. Still, whenever she was in Manhattan, Natasha made an effort to visit. It was nice to see that it was still here.

Amélie looked up from behind the counter. "Would that be Miss Natalie that I see? It's good to know she hasn't forgotten me," she said in French, smiling widely.

" _Vous, Amelie? Jamais_ ," she replied in the same language.

"That's not what it feels like," Amelie complained, raising her eyebrows. "You look tired. Did something happen?"

Self-conscious, Natasha brushed a hand over her eyes. "Oh, you know," she said dismissively. "Just work."

"Ah, that's the problem! Natalie, let me tell you. If you pick a job that you love, then none of this will happen, hmm? Like me! Every day, I bake some bread, and I get to eat it!"

"I do love it," she said. "It's just… so complicated sometimes, you know?"

"No," Amelie replied plainly.

Natasha laughed outright at that.

"So what can I get for you, my darling girl?"

"Some of those croissants. I've missed them."

"Of course."

_Wednesday, June 17_

She called a meeting the next day—not a full Avengers gathering, just Clint, Steve, and Tony. Whatever was left of their original six. Steve and Tony, as the official heads of the Avengers, and Clint, because it was Clint. She texted them each separately and told them to come alone.

So they did.

"What's wrong?" Steve was the first to arrive, because he was Steve, and any threat that he saw would be met shields up. She'd have to convince him otherwise.

"Wait for the others."

His eyes narrowed, but he sat down anyway.

When Tony arrived, the last of the three, he snapped his fingers. "What's this? What's with all of the secrecy?" Steve glanced at him and looked away just as quickly.

 _Damnit._ Natasha hadn't even thought about that. She forged on anyway. "We have a problem. Someone's after Wanda."

"What?" Tony said.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"Who?" Clint demanded.

She quirked an eyebrow. They never changed. Years and years ago, there had been a threat against Bruce, with a very similar reaction. Only that had been a group of eight disorganized scientists and not what appeared to be a highly trained and coordinated operation. "It's in here." She pushed the stack of paper in front of her towards them. It was what Fury had gathered, plus a little surface research of her own from yesterday. Tony grabbed the first dozen pages and started flipping through urgently, Clint grabbed the next couple dozen, and Steve left the rest in favour of looking over their shoulders.

"This is from Fury?" Steve confirmed.

She nodded. "They call themselves Orion."

"Orion?" Tony scoffed. "Like the cybersecurity firm?"

"Or the constellation," Clint offered. "Greek mythology figure. Cooper's interested. It doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't," Natasha agreed. "Orion, the Hunter, in mythology. Seems a little tongue-in-cheek, but like I said. It doesn't matter. What matters is that they're out to get us. All of us, but presumably Wanda first. They've got fingers in everything: SHIELD, Hydra, SI."

Tony's head shot up. " _What?_ "

"Yeah," she admitted. "Among others. Fury got me a list of connected people— _here,_ Clint—and number three on his list—"

"I see him," Clint said grimly, tapping the name.

"Who is he?" Steve questioned. "Erik Meyer? I've never heard of him."

"He's Baron Zemo's brother in law."

The name immediately had an impact. All three men stiffened, glanced at each other, then looked away just as quickly. Natasha rolled her eyes. Couldn't they see they had bigger problems?

As far as Natasha knew—and she had checked, upon discovering Erik Meyer—Zemo was still locked beneath the Raft. He wouldn't be able to do anything more from there.

"The rest of that list might be important, too." Natasha nodded at it. "I'll send a copy of this to all of you."

"I'll cross-check SI employees," Tony promised.

"Awesome. I've highlighted a few of the important ones—" including Arya Forrest, whoever she was, "—and crossed out a few that don't exist. Most of them are aliases, so I don't expect you to know very many, but take a look anyway. The point is that there are many. And that would be people who have had access to information and to each other."

Tony swallowed. "Can I ask a question? You're making this out to be a pretty big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal."

"Right, but why aren't the rest of us here?"

She sighed. "I'll get to that."

None of them seemed that pleased to hear that. "Nat, do you have a plan?" Clint inquired gently.

"I'm starting to. There are three things that we need to consider. Who's behind Orion? Why? And what are we going to do about it?"

Clint and Steve shared a glance. "You said something about Wanda," the former probed. "Why are they going after her?"

Natasha repeated much of her conversation with Fury. When she finished, Clint swore loudly. "I don't like it."

"Nobody does," Tony agreed. "We have to attack. We need to cut this down as soon as possible. _Now._ " He pounded the table for emphasis.

"He's right," Steve agreed. Tony's eyes widened at that acknowledgement. When was the last time that the two had agreed on anything to each other's face? It was a good question, for a later time. "We can't let them gather forces any more than they already have."

Stark and Rogers exchanged a glance, some kind of agreement. Of course. Nothing brought them together like a common enemy, especially one that was threatening their own. Natasha chose not to acknowledge it. "We can't," she was sorry to say. "We don't have enough information."

Steve spread the papers around the desk. "This seems like plenty."

"Most of it's incomplete. There's nothing solid in there."

"How much more do we need?" Tony demanded. "We don't need more intel. We need action. I'm not willing to let them grow any more powerful."

Clint came to her aid, displeased as he was. "She's right. As much as I hate it. They could have weapons that we don't know about, hostages, powers. We would have no idea what we'd be walking into." He gave his head a short, quick shake. "We can't risk it."

"Not to mention," Natasha added, "there's no solid location in there."

"Fine," Tony relented. "So then what?"

"Trust me. I hate it, too. Let's take three months. This stays with the four of us. We'll do research. There are a few people I can reach out to. When we have enough, we'll fight. Then, and only then. We have _resources,_ and I'm not willing to go out there unless we've used them."

"Three months is too long," Tony objected.

"Wait," Clint said, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, this stays with the four of us? You're not gonna tell the others? Why?"

Natasha inhaled. She'd been dreading that part of the conversation. She knew she'd have to fight with them about it. She also knew that she was right.

It didn't make it any easier.

"We can't risk Wanda hearing about this," she began. "She'll… get defensive. You know how she is when she's scared. Orion isn't even aware that we know about their existence, so we need to keep the investigation under wraps. The fewer people who know, the better. You can't tell Pepper, or Sam, and certainly not Laura. And if it gets to Vision, we're done for, so we need to keep the circle small. I hate it as much as you do, I promise."

For a moment, it was silent. "I'm not down for keeping secrets, Natasha." Steve avoided looking at Tony. "Not from each other. Not… not anymore."

"Damnit," said Clint, and Nat knew that he understood that she was right. "Damnit, Natasha." He turned to the others. "We need to. We really do. What's gonna happen when we tell her, huh? You think she's gonna sit there and let us take care of it? You think she's gonna let us protect her?" He shook his head. "I love her, I do. She's like my kid. But she'll charge in, unprepared, without her team behind her because she'll think that she can handle it. And maybe she can. But I'm not ready to take that risk."

"This isn't even a discussion," Steve argued, voice rising. "We're done keeping secrets!"

Natasha glanced at Tony, who looked even more unhappy. This part was crucial—she needed him on their side. "Fuck," he exhaled, and Natasha knew that she had won. Wanda was barely in her twenties. She was unprepared for this, and she lacked the temperament of a spy, same as most of them. They all knew it.

Even Steve, but it didn't look like he would be willing to acknowledge it. "This isn't a decision that we get to make! No more keeping secrets! She has a right to know."

"Did I?" Tony said suddenly. Natasha bit her lip, watching Steve's face fall. Fury had told her not to tell them. He _had._ And she hadn't listened, because she thought that she knew the three people in front of her well enough. Apparently, she was wrong.

Steve struggled to find words. "Tony…"

"No. Did I have a right to know? At least this isn't forever. At least we're _planning_ on telling her. At least there's a reason we're not. At least we're making this decision _together_ and not just you, unilaterally!"

There was nothing that Steve could say to that. "I… You…"

Tony scoffed. "Right." He shoved past Steve and out the door. "You goddamn hypocrite."

The three of them watched him leave. Natasha exchanged a glance with Clint, who looked as lost as she did.

Steve turned on Natasha. "One month," he ordered, his voice cold as the ice he was frozen in for seventy years. "One month, and no more. And then I'm going to tell them _all,_ so help me God. One month."

It would have to do. "Understood," Clint said crisply.

Steve softened. "We gotta tell her," he whispered, mostly to himself. "I can't… I can't let that happen again." He jerked his chin in the direction that Tony had gone. "I _can't._ "

"Understood," Natasha said.

* * *

**This chapter was a little bit plot-heavy--that'll lighten up soon. The first big confrontation! Please, please review--do you like the higher emotion scenes? Or should I tone it down more? More plot or more friendship? Let me know.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little bit plot-heavy--that'll lighten up soon. The first big confrontation! Please, please review--do you like the higher emotion scenes? Or should I tone it down more? More plot or more friendship? Let me know.   
> lots of love,  
> aurea


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WandaVision damn. Well. Let's find out about that.

Natasha decided to give Tony the rest of the day, so she retreated to her floor with Clint. Laura and the kids were out—he didn’t know where, exactly, but he was sure that they were fine. New York wasn’t Iowa, but his kids loved it there.

Clint looked around. He hadn’t been to Natasha’s floor in years. When they had both lived at the Tower part-time, they would usually meet on his floor. Now, his floor contained the lives of five people instead of just one. So they went to hers. 

It looked different, actually, if he remembered correctly. No, that wasn’t true. None of the furniture or bedding or anything had changed, so it looked mostly the same. But it  _ felt  _ different. 

Natasha crossed around him and flopped down onto her sofa, undoing the braid in her hair. “ _ Idiots. _ ”

“That’s not so nice,” Clint quipped, finding a seat across from her and lying back. “How would you like it if I told you that  _ you  _ were an idiot?”

She scoffed. “You’re such a dad.”

“A dad?” Clint couldn’t say that he disliked that. “I  _ am  _ a dad.”

“You always were.” Natasha sat up. “Really. You were. Even before I knew you were actually a dad.”

He sighed. “I got three kids that are mine and the rest of you that I gotta keep in line.”

“Oh, you’re keeping us in line? You suck at it.” Natasha covered her face with her hands. “You were there, right? They  _ suck. _ ”

“I thought I sucked.”

“You suck, too. Everybody  _ sucks. _ ”

“You sound like my fifteen year old.” It had been so long since Clint had seen Natasha like this. Every time Fury sent her on an undercover mission she didn’t like, she would show up at his place with a case and complain. Then she would do what needed to be done. She always did what needed to be done. “Want a beer?”

She shook her head. “Can’t. I got work to do.”

_ What needed to be done.  _ “They’re going to be okay, you know,” he reminded her. “This’ll blow over.”

“You really think that?”

“Yeah. I do. It’s like when Cooper and Lila fight. They’re going to forget about it as soon as something else happens.”

“I don’t know,” Natasha said, grabbing a hairbrush from the coffee table and running it through her hair. Her movements were short, almost angry. “Did Cooper ever hide the truth about the death of Lila’s parents for  _ years? _ ”

“No, but there was like a four month period where he had her convinced that she was adopted.”  _ Man,  _ that had been weird. “Look, the second that someone’s actually in trouble, they’ll totally forget what they’re fighting about. I’m talking about Steve and Tony, by the way. Not my teenagers.”

Natasha snorted, then her face softened. “How are you feeling? About Wanda? I know you care about her.”

“She’s just a kid, Nat.”

“I know.”

“She doesn’t talk about him anymore.” Clint’s voice dropped and he looked at the ground, remembering.

Natasha knew who he was talking about. 

Clint thought of Wanda’s brother yet again. Pietro, with his crazy hair and crazy attitude. Clint hadn’t known him very long, but he missed him. He missed him a lot. He could only imagine how Wanda felt, almost two years later. 

_ I let him die. I can’t let anything happen to her. _

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him, but the words were empty. Both of them had known guilt. Both of them knew that it was irrational. 

Clint pushed the thought from his mind. “What about you? Something else bothering you?”

“There’s a lot to be bothered about right now,” she said. 

“Don’t I know it. Don’t we all.”

She let it go. “How are the kids doing?”

“They’re good. They are. I was worried, you know. Cooper was sad to lose his friends in Iowa, and Lila, you know, both of them had whole lives there. And Laura, she’s a farm girl, right. But all of them love it. They do. And it’s so much safer to have them close by, really. Especially with… whatever’s happening.” Whenever anything had happened in the past, it had killed Clint to have been so far away. If Ultron, for example, or Zemo, had found out about the family, he wouldn’t have been able to get there in time.

“Yeah,” she said. “Have they made any friends yet?”

“They  _ are  _ lonely, here in the Tower. I mean, it’s just them here, and Parker, if he’s around. And Lang’s kid is going back in a couple days. But Lila’s soccer is starting soon and Peter says he’ll introduce Cooper to his friends, or whatever, so we’ll see.”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “I wonder if they know about him.”

“Who?”

“Peter. Orion. Nobody’s supposed to know, outside of us, but Tony figured it out easily enough, and now he’s spending weekends here. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that something is going on. If they’re after Wanda because she’s young and powerful and inexperienced…”

“Wanda was an Avenger for a year and a half, plus more time on the run. Peter’s even younger and he’s done none of that. He’s not as powerful, but Spider-Man would be a good target if they knew who he was.” Clint’s eyes sharpened. 

“Unless they’re going after Wanda for her powers. Brainwashing, or something. All respect to Peter, but he’s just strong. He doesn’t necessarily present a bigger threat than Steve or Tony. “ Natasha got to her feet and crossed to her workspace. Clint followed as she logged in to her computer. She paused, fingers hovering over the keys. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted. “The old SHIELD and Hydra files are out of date now. I can’t ask Hill for her resources because she’d have to report to the UN. And I don’t want Orion to  _ know  _ that we know, so I can’t start asking questions on my dark web chat rooms. I literally do not know where to start.”

Clint set his jaw. This… information gathering had always been Natasha’s thing. At SHIELD, he had been more of an assassin than a spy. “What can I do to help?”

“Keep Wanda safe,” she offered, pulling out her cell phone. “That’s all we  _ can  _ do.”

“What about Fury’s list?”

“That’s what I’m doing.” She waved her StarkPhone around. “Remember Ginsburg?” Natasha reached into the drawer and pulled out a flip phone. 

Clint furrowed his eyebrows. “The French guy? Nosy?” Clint had only gone to see him once or twice. He was slimy, but Natasha insisted that his information was accurate. 

“He’s British, actually. He just works in France. Here.” Natasha shoved her phone towards him. “Read me his number.”

He read it aloud as she tapped it into the phone. 

“Max, it’s Natalie,” she narrated. “You busy?”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all he needs to know. He’ll send me his price afterwards.”

“I don’t like him,” Clint said, somewhat unnecessarily. 

“Nobody does. But we need him.” Natasha spoke quickly, leaving no room for argument. 

“If you say so.” He watched as she began arranging Fury’s papers on her desk. “When do we leave?”

“We don’t. Max doesn’t like you, either, and he won’t take kindly to the Avengers on his doorstep. I’ll go alone.”

Clint ground his teeth, catching her arm and forcing her to stop. “Slow down,” he ordered. Reluctantly, she swung around to look him in the eye. “You’re not going alone.”

“Trust me,” she said. “It’ll be fine.”

And he did. He trusted her, completely, in every possible way. Even if it had been a year since they had last seen each other. Even if Orion was rising and she was determined to do this alone. He trusted her. 

How could he not?

-

_ Thursday, June 18 _

Natasha gave Tony until the next day before she approached him. 

She passed through the common floor to grab a cookie as a peace offering, where Sam and Rhodey were intently discussing a plan on the couches. 

“Romanoff, awesome,” Rhodey said when he noticed her. “Where are you headed?”

“Tell me you’re staying in the building, please,” Sam added.

Why did she need to be in the building? “Uh, yeah. I’m headed down to the workshop; I want to talk to Tony.”

Rhodey met her eyes carefully. He was still twisted around, because it took a significant amount of effort for him to stand up and turn. “Serious conversation?”

“Shouldn’t be,” she lied effortlessly, “but you never know with him. Why? What’s going on?”

Sam was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Training exercise, before we entertain those assholes over dinner. Whole team.”

“Oh, did you show him Tony’s new sim tech?” Natasha asked Rhodey.

“No. Well,  _ yes,  _ but we’re going old school for this one. It’s a surprise, so we won’t say anything else. But. Half hour in the training room, please. Grab Tony while you’re there.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Interesting.” She hated surprises, but Sam seemed so excited that she realized she’d have no choice but to go along with this one. “Will do. “

“Thanks!”

She balanced one cookie between her teeth (One of Laura’s. Incredible. Natasha had seen the neighbours bugging her about the recipe since forever, but Laura never shared. Family secret.) and pushed the elevator button. When FRIDAY announced her arrival, the music volume automatically dropped, which she was grateful for. Sooner or later, it would give her hearing damage. Between that and the gunshots, it was a miracle that she wasn’t already deaf. 

“Sorry about yesterday,” he said instantly, when he saw her. “I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” she replied, cutting him off. “This one is on all of us, I think.”

He shrugged, settling back into his chair and pushing his projects aside. “Maybe not Legolas.”

“When Clint Barton becomes the sane one, we’re all screwed.” She crossed towards him and handed him her peace offering. 

“That’s for damn sure. Is this Laura’s?”

“Best in the world.” Natasha grabbed another chair from the other side of the room and pulled it closer to where Tony was sitting. Butterfingers whirred at her. “Relax, I’ll put it back,” she promised. 

“Be nice,” Tony scolded, and for a moment she was unsure whether he meant her or the bot. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“I need to borrow a jet.”

“What? Why?”

“After you… left, we agreed on one month as the deadline before we tell the others. So I gotta start now.” She chose not to tell him about Peter. There was no point in worrying him over what was just a mere suspicion. 

“I don’t suppose you can do that from here.”

She smiled. “I reached out to an informant, a contact, who is available on Saturday. He’s located in France and he doesn’t love the internet. So I’d leave tomorrow and hopefully be back by the end of the week. Unless I find something else.”

“Tomorrow? But that’s the signing! You can’t miss that!”

_ Shit.  _ Natasha had almost forgotten. It was fine. She had planned to leave around nighttime, anyway, and the signing would supposedly finish by five. “I’ll stay for that, I guess. I can leave after.”

“The press will be everywhere. It’ll be a damn circus.”

“It’s cloudy tomorrow night,” she answered vaguely. “They won’t be able to follow me.”

“You? Tell me you’re not going alone.”

“Of course I am. I have to. You and Steve need to stay, obviously, and I won’t drag Clint into this, not with Laura and the kids here.”  _ It can’t be anyone else.  _ Those words were left unsaid, but she trusted that he understood. 

He did. “Yeah,” he sighed. As always, she had really thought this through. Natasha rarely left any room for argument, even for Tony, who loved arguing. He told her this and she laughed out loud, then checked her watch. 

“Come on. Sam and Rhodey want everyone in the training room in twenty minutes and you gotta change.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.” He flicked his wrist and a blue hologram expanded over his table. “I’m  _ working. _ ”

It only took a few seconds of looking at it to realize that there was no open project at all, and that he had just opened the hologram to its main screen. “You are actually not working.  _ Come on. _ Please?”

“Fine,” he relented.

“Yay!” Natasha smiled, looking like a little kid on Christmas. It was a rehearsed smile. She had mastered it long ago. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that Tony stood up, complaining as he was. “And is that a yes to the jet?”

“Unfortunately.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't updated in a very long time, sorry. Updates should be a little more frequent now.

By the time that Tony arrived, most of the others were already there. Since he had spent the last few days avoiding most of them, Tony had to admit it was a little bit daunting to see them all gathered together. 

And it was also a little bit gratifying that none of them seemed to know what was going on any more than he did. 

He made his way to a spot near Rhodey on the wall. The room was set up with boxes scattered haphazardly around the space of varying sizes and fights. He looked questioning at Rhodey, who shrugged. 

“You think I did that part?” he asked, indicating his legs. “That was all Sam.”

Hearing his name, Sam looked up. “I’ll explain the rest when  _ everyone’s  _ here,” he promised, sounding like he had repeated that more than once. 

Clint and Natasha filed in, and Clint waved up at the next floor. This particular training room was three floors high—huge and hollow, with projectors lining the walls and drones waiting to be deployed. Since the Avengers had been based at the compound, the tech was a little out of date, but it was still fantastic. 

One portion of the wall halfway up had been made into sort of a gallery, if someone wanted to watch. The glass was bulletproof and could withstand anything less than a direct hit by Thor (or maybe the Hulk—they had never tested that). Tony followed Clint’s gaze up there and sure enough, both the Barton family and the Lang family waited, watching. 

“There’s pressure, man,” Tony heard Scott say with a gulp. “My  _ kid  _ is watching.”

Tony was, to some degree, surprised at the new size of the team. When the Avengers had first formed, it had just been the six of them. Now, Banner and Thor were gone. Tony had FRIDAY constantly running facial recognition for both, but Tony didn’t expect much. It had been two years—they wouldn’t be found if they didn’t want to be. Wanda, Vision, Scott, Hope, Sam, Rhodey, and Peter had joined their ranks, although the last wasn’t technically an Avenger. Although Peter was anxious to join them on missions, Tony had drawn the line at training. The kid was only fifteen, after all. 

Speaking of, the door opened to admit Steve Rogers, nodding as Peter gestured emphatically around him, looking a little star-struck. 

Scratch that, a lot star-struck. Tony would have to talk with him later, to make sure that he was still the favourite. 

That was a joke. Mostly. 

Steve turned to Sam and Peter scurried back over to Tony. 

“Mr. Stark! I met Captain America! I can’t wait to tell Ned!”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to have a serious conversation with you about that, by the way.”

Rhodey snorted and drifted away, leaving the two alone. 

“Wait, what? Why? Is—” Peter leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did something else happen? Are you guys like, not cool? Because if—”

_ Oh, God. Kids.  _ Peter was ridiculously loyal. “Nothing happened,” Tony said.  _ Mostly.  _ “I’m messing with you. We’re…  _ cool.  _ But I’m cooler.” 

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Not when you talk like that, though.”

Tony had never felt so betrayed. “Mr. Parker, if you—”

Sam interrupted him, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right,” he said loudly, the conversations dying down. “Welcome to training.”

“We’re going old school today, and we’re going to simulate a shoot-out situation with paintball. We’ll divide you into two teams—red and green.” Rhodey explained. “You get shot three times and you are out. The last team standing wins.” 

Wanda raised her hand. “Can we use—” 

“Powers?” Sam interrupted, anticipating her question. “No. No specialized tech, either, so Vision has agreed to sit out.”

“Wait,” Tony said aloud. “How does that work? If we can’t use powers or tech, how does that accurately simulate a fight? How and why would we ever be without powers?”

Rhodey opened his mouth, presumably for a semi-rational explanation, but Sam cut in. “Fine,” he said. “It’s not a real simulation. I just wanna shoot Tic Tac over there. Any problems with that?”

Scott spluttered. 

“That’s fair,” Hope said, and everyone chuckled at that. 

“No problems here,” Natasha smiled. “What are the teams?”

Sam waved an ordinary-looking Yankees baseball cap. “Randomly drawn.”

“The Yankees?” Steve said, his voice heavy with disdain. “Really?”

“I was  _ going  _ to use FRIDAY, but Rhodey informed me that someone tended to use her to cheat.”

Everyone’s heads swivelled towards Tony, who shrugged and winked. 

“Wait,” said Clint. “Is this why you got me for Secret Santa  _ three years in a row? _ ”

Tony shrugged again, remembering. The first time had been pure chance, but the next couple of years, he’d asked JARVIS and then FRIDAY to “make sure he got someone good”, mostly as a joke. Mostly. “You’re easier to shop for than Thor.”

“What does the god of thunder want as a Christmas present?” Scott wondered. 

Natasha had an answer to that one. “Gourmet Pop-Tarts.”

“Does Thor even celebrate?” Hope asked. 

“Everyone celebrates commercial Christmas,” Clint sighed. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Don’t tell my grandmother that.”

“Back to the game?” Rhodey asked. 

“But… but Thor…” Peter objected half-heartedly, and the room snorted with laughter. He turned to Tony and mouthed, wide-eyed,  _ When do I get to meet Thor? _

Tony waved his hand, not dignifying that with an actual response. 

_ Okay, it’s pretty cool to all be together like this.  _

Natasha caught his eye and he knew she was thinking the same thing. She offered him a small smile and a quirked eyebrow, an  _ I told you so.  _

_ She really did,  _ he observed. Then he remembered what she had just told him, about Orion, about how she would be leaving the next day and his smile faded. He looked at Wanda, too, listening attentively beside Natasha. Out there, she was in danger. But here, in the Tower, surrounded by the most powerful people on Earth, she was about as safe as she could get.

-

Steve watched Natasha as she checked her paintball gun. The rifle was larger than the ones he usually saw in her hands, but it still looked familiar in her hands. 

His, too. 

The teams were randomly selected, and by some fluke, Steve had ended up together with Natasha, Clint, Tony, and Wanda, against Rhodey, Sam, Scott, Hope, and Peter. 

Steve looked towards the others, but couldn’t see much. “Just like old times, right?” he said with a smile, referring to their old SHIELD missions together. 

“You’ll make me nostalgic.” As if. Natasha was one of the least nostalgic people he knew. Before he could reply, however, FRIDAY, initiated the countdown. 

“Ten, nine, eight,” she began. 

“We have to win!” Wanda hissed eagerly. 

“We will,” Clint promised, his voice rising. 

Their excitement was contagious and even Tony got in on it. “Come on, come on!”

“Relax,” Natasha warned, but even she was smiling. She was on one end, planning to shoot around a tall black box that she was currently taking cover against. Clint was on the far left, mirroring her position. Steve knew that the second that the shooting started, he would be their greatest asset. They didn’t call him Hawkeye for nothing. 

He, Tony, and Wanda were arrayed in between them, each taking cover behind black boxes of various sizes. Steve pressed his back into his and looked at Tony, who was laser-focused on the other team. 

“Any other plan, any comments?” Steve asked.. They had already begun to discuss tactics, but he wanted to see if there were any other ideas. 

“Don’t get shot,” Wanda answered, hefting her rifle. “I don’t think we’ve said that yet.”

Natasha shrugged. “It’s not bad advice.”

“Five, four, three.” FRIDAY’s lyrical voice began the countdown, and the excitement tripled. “Two. One. Fire at will.”

Clint wound around his box and rushed back immediately, not taking a shot. Green paint splattered the wall behind him and Steve heard some more crash into his box. He crouched a little bit lower. “Rhodey and Hope are on the ends,” he reported. “Rhodey’s standing, she’s kneeling. Sam is beside her.”

Steve responded by slamming his box down so it lay horizontally, then shoving it forward. It was easier to move when it lay on its side, although he had to duck more. 

“I could draw fire,” Wanda offered. “If I ran from here to Natasha, you guys could probably get a couple shots off in that time.”

“They’d  _ kill  _ you,” Clint objected.

“Don’t do it,” Steve agreed. “The goal is  _ not  _ to get hit.”

“No,” she disagreed. “The goal is to hit them more.” With that, she stood up. The shots rang out on either side, and when she crouched beside Natasha again, her shoulder and her leg were covered in green paint.

“That’s two hits,” Natasha reminded her. “One more and you’re out.”

Clint snaked around his box and let off a single paintball. Judging from the groan, it hit Rhodey. 

“Nice,” Steve said, firing his own gun twice.

He spoke too soon. A paintball came flying at his face and he didn’t duck fast enough, leaving green paint smeared in his hair and the top part of his mask. 

He decided to abandon his cover, leaping away from the other team and sliding further back. Natasha lunged to take his spot, firing once and dodging a projectile for her efforts. Tony pushed his box next to Wanda’s abandoned one, making a shield thing, and Natasha did the same on the other side. 

The other side began to catch on. Suddenly, there was a thump and Peter appeared on the other side of Tony and Natasha’s shield. Clint fired twice at him, running across the room. The sides began to disappear as Sam dashed across the empty space, without even taking a bullet. 

Things moved quickly from there. Steve got two paintballs to the chest pretty early on, courtesy of Sam and Hope, who had more of an affinity for shooting than he would have assumed. That could be useful in the future, he thought. Not for the game but for life. Missions. This game was becoming even better every second. 

The first person out was Scott, unsurprisingly, after two shots from Clint and one from Wanda. It was no surprise that the other team was aiming for Clint in particular—he had the best aim and had given out the greatest number of hits—so it didn’t take long for FRIDAY to gently remind them all that Clint was out. 

Rhodey had two, both from Natasha, who had green dripping from her leg. Then Sam had fallen to Steve and Tony, who had crawled around until Rhodey planted a green mark on his back. 

Steve army-crawled around a blockade and didn’t even notice Natasha until her red-dripping gun was in his face. “Watch yourself,” she chided.

“Does it count if you shoot me? Or does it have to be one of them?” Steve wondered idly. 

Wanda, beside Nat, hefted her gun. “I think we should find out.”

“Don’t even think about—”

Too late. The red paint splattered against Steve’s vest, a little too bright to look like blood. 

FRIDAY announced it over the speakers. “Captain Rogers has lost as a result of Ms. Van Dyne, Mr. Wilson, and Ms. Maximoff.”

“She can’t do that!” Steve shouted, standing, then glanced at Sam. “Can she do that?” 

Peter took the opportunity to fire his paintball, directly into the middle of Steve’s chest. “Doesn’t matter anymore!” He proceeded to receive his second red splotch in almost the exact same place as he had given Steve, followed by Natasha’s smirk.

And for that, Wanda couldn’t resist. She pulled her trigger again at Peter, who dodged this time. Then she turned the gun once more on Steve, who was now both out and on her team, and fired twice more, coating him in the red paint. He lifted his own gun to retaliate.

“Chaos mode!” yelled Peter, swinging around and nailing Tony in the arm.

“What the hell’s chaos mode?” Rhodey called.

“Exactly what it sounds like, platypus,” Tony answered. If it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, Steve would have missed the exchange. True to his word, Peter was now sowing chaos, shooting any and everyone.

Steve glanced at Natasha to assess what she was thinking, and was uplifted to see a wide smile on her face. 

“Go with it,” she advised with a smile. “If you can’t beat ‘em…” Her eyes sparkled as she turned the gun on him, fired twice, then ducked behind an obstacle to reload. 

“Scott, you’re  _ out _ ,” Hope chided, but she didn’t seem too angry about it as he rejoined the game. 

“What? No, that was five minutes ago. Things change!”

Tony stood up and squinted at the glass, where the Barton kids were still watching. He fired twice, splattering red paint on the window. “Come play!”

Steve paused to glance at Clint, who seemed unbothered. It was just paintball, after all. With that in mind, he shot Tony. 

Tony turned to look at him, and for half a second, Steve regretted it. He was still on uneven footing with Tony, and they weren’t  _ friends  _ yet, and… and… and… 

Tony grinned widely and fired at Steve, coating his mask in red paint again. He yelled, wiping it off with his sleeve.

“FRIDAY!” Rhodey called. “Play us something!”

The speakers began to echo with loud music, a song that Steve didn’t recognize, but some of the others did. Scott began to yell along and the others joined in. The game was beginning to calm when Cooper and Lila burst onto the scene, freshly loaded paintball guns in the air. Lila had some of her father’s accuracy, but Cooper fired indiscriminately, regardless of aiming. They began as a team, and other, smaller teams began to form, only to break apart at any given moment. 

Forty minutes later, Steve lay laughing over a box, covered in red and green paint, Sam beside him. Around them, the others were in various states of exhaustion, all covered in paint.

Clint turned to Sam and Rhodey. “This was awesome. Thank you.”

“Exactly what we needed,” Rhodey agreed.

Steve’s eyes strayed over to Natasha, looking relaxed for the first time in… he didn’t even know how long. “More than you know.”


End file.
